Writing on the Shower Wall
by atalanta's apples
Summary: sequel to vincit omnia amor. "You don't know how this makes me feel," he said. He looked as though in pain. "I think I do," she said softly. Hermione and Draco have company in Paris and Lucius is angry.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer:All things Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling

Author's Notes: I know I had previously announced that this story would be called "Last Dance in Paris" but I did change the title (you'll know why later). I'm pretty sure that I said that Hermione and Draco were in their sixth year in the last story if I mentioned their age at all; for the sake of this story, that's what their age will be (i.e. they would be going to Hogwarts for their seventh year after the summer) And, about the club's name that's coming up, I couldn't think of anything else to call it and I've always thought that name was cute…I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as Vincit Omnia Amor! 

__

~*Writing on the Shower Wall*~

Hermione turned fitfully in her bed as she dreamed. In her mind, she was standing before her screaming mother. 

"You're a disgrace, a whore!" Hermione flinched at the word. She had never heard her mother even say the Lord's name in vain nevertheless call her own daughter that. 

"But I love him Mom," Hermione cried back, but she new it was no use. Her mother raised her hand and Hermione knew instinctively to shy away but she found herself rooted to the ground. 

"No MOM!" Then Hermione's mother morphed into the leering form of Lucius. 

"Dance with me," he hissed as he took Hermione's trembling hands in his own cold, marble-like hands. Hermione felt the ground loosen its grip on her feet as she was swept along with Draco's father. She _felt_ rather than saw Lucius reach down into his belt and withdraw a glimmering dagger, silver hilt with a black stone at the end. The blade was mother-of-pearl lined with steel. He pressed it against Hermione's sweaty back.

"What have you done to the Malfoy name?" he whispered, demandingly. He didn't wait for her to answer but plunged the dagger deep into her back…

Hermione woke up, screaming, her hands in her face like the girl in the Tarot deck. She felt her body burning up and she leapt out of the bed and out onto the Juliet balcony. Draco was there in a minute, his arms wrapped soothingly around her. 

"Hermione?" he inquired, softly. His breath tickled her ear. "What were you dreaming about?" Hermione sighed and stared at the dark sky, trying to distinguish constellations from other teasing, sparkling stars. 

"Nothing," she finally said. She felt Draco frown into her curly hair, damp slightly with sweat. 

"No," he said slowly. He breathed cool onto her neck. 

"It was…a nightmare," said Hermione. "But just that, nothing more. A dream." She sank down onto the marble floor, shuddering at the touch of it that was not unlike Lucius' hands in her dream. Draco sighed in defeat as he sat on the ground next to her and pulled her into his arms. Hermione finally relaxed and leaned her head against his chest. 

"What's to become of us, Draco?" asked Hermione. It was something they both wondered but never wanted to voice. 

"Don't worry, we'll go back to Hogwarts. I'm protected there," said Draco. 

"But after that," said Hermione. This was a question that she had asked herself long before the dilemma that she and Draco were in now. Hermione constantly wondered whether she would return to the muggle world that she had grown up in or stay in the wizard world that she had grown to love. Draco shrugged slightly.

"We don't have to worry about that yet," he said, in a closed sort of voice. Hermione scowled. How could Draco be so laid back about everything? Then again, if he wasn't and they were both obsessive compulsive about…well…_everything_ then the world would probably stop in its orbit. 

"You know what's our problem, Hermione?" asked Draco. 

"Yeah," she said. "A lot of things." He chuckled.

"That's not what I meant. I meant that we don't do anything." Hermione looked reproachfully at Draco, not quite grasping what he meant but also not wanting to acknowledge what she _thought_ he meant. 

"We're not having any fun," he said. 

"Draco Malfoy," started Hermione. 

"We should go out," he said, cutting her off. Hermione's stern expression was replaced with one of growing interest. 

"You mean like…" They both looked over the railing on the balcony down the street. At the very end of the street was, quite conveniently, snuggled a small, intimate bar. Music was heard faintly, pumping in the inside and lights buzzed around the entrance. White Christmas lights were hanging around the black windows, reflecting softly. In buzzing letters, it read: "The Moulin Rouge." Hermione grinned, her nightmare being pushed to the back of her head. 

"Sounds…good," she said. It didn't sound good. It sounded better. Much, _much_ better. 

~*~

Hermione was in the shower, contemplating about how well things worked out, almost _too_ well. With Draco's money, they were able to buy a sweet, little apartment on a quiet street. With Hermione's beautiful French, she bought vegetables and grains from the old ladies on the beautiful cobbled streets. She had been nicknamed "le petit fee*," the tiny fairy. They adored her and worshipped Draco. They had become instant favorites in the small, quiet town nestled away in a part of Paris. 

The old ladies even amused themselves by telling each other stories of how the beautiful couple came to be. They settled upon the story that Draco, ablaze in glory and godlikeness, had saved fragile Hermione from her cruel father. He had whisked her away and they fled to Paris, the city of love, and here they stayed, cloaked in mystery and romance. 

Hermione slipped her soapy fingers over her body slowly, her mind also thinking slowly as well. Finally she got out of the shower and rubbed a circle in the steamed mirror. When her towel-clad reflection stared back at her, she saw another in the mirror.

"Shit, Draco! You almost gave me a heart attack," said Hermione, heart racing. He grinned. 

"How long do you think you're gonna take?" he asked. 

"How long does perfection take Draco?" asked Hermione, grinning. She ushered him out of the room. Draco amused himself with a bottle of beer and that muggle invention, what do they call it? Oh yeah, a television. Hermione, dried her hair and rubbed some of her hair smoothing solution to make her curls shine and hang in smooth ringlets. She changed into a silk black camisole and a suede black skirt, both articles of clothing borrowed from the girl who lived downstairs. She, like everyone else in the town, was enchanted by Hermione and the rumors.

Hermione silently thanked Amelie' as she felt the silky smoothness of the camisole fall onto her skin. She played with the flirty lace trim for a bit then pulled on her four-inch heel ankle boots. Hermione looked at herself in the mirror. Before she left the room, she added a diamond studs to her ears and a matching bracelet. She glided on dark red lipstick and smacked her lips. She grinned. It was about time she and Draco had some fun. 

~*~

Draco almost fell over when he saw Hermione walk through the threshold and into view. She was part Roman goddess, sent directly from Mount Olympus, and part sex kitten bombshell. He stood up, stunned, not knowing that he looked pretty stunning too. His pale golden hair gleamed and his eyes weren't the cold ice blue of his father but warm and inviting. He unwittingly dressed to match Hermione in a black silk shirt and black linen pants. On his feet were black combat boots. Badass meets money. 

"You're really there right? I'm not imagining you?" asked Draco. Hermione laughed slightly and put her arms around his neck. Draco loved the feel of her warm arms looped around him. She kissed him softly on his nose.

"Does that prove it?" she asked softly. Draco grinned and kissed her. It was so light that Hermione had trouble believing that it really happened.

"Ready?" he asked. 

"Always been." 

~*~

For it being such a small town, there were quite many people packed in the Moulin Rouge. Hermione's stomach churned with excitement as she and Draco were let in effortlessly into the small, intimate room. Back in the muggle world she always had to get fake i.d.'s to get into a club even half as good as this one.

The Moulin Rouge was plush and rich. One side of the room, the ground was made of a mattress and velvet and satin pillows were strewn about where people would lounge. On the other side was a bar with hot bartenders with those sexy French accents. In the center was a dance floor where couples and singles alike were sidling up to one another, moving to the beat that pumped so loud it felt as if the walls were shaking. 

Draco and Hermione sat down at the bar and a bartender was there in an instant.

"What can I get for zi mademoiselle?" he asked, flirtatiously. If she had not been in the middle of France, Hermione would have _sworn_ that this was a fake, silly accent. But, the truth was, she _was_ in the middle of France and a hot bartender was hitting on her. While this amused her, it was obvious that it did not amuse Draco at all. He draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders and ordered drinks for the two of them. Hermione grinned.

"I didn't know you were so possessive," she said, still smiling. Draco grunted.

"Didn't know I'd ever have to be."

"Is that implying something?" asked Hermione, pretending to be offended. She smacked Draco playfully as the bartender slid their drinks towards them. As he did so, he tried to make a "meaningful" eye contact with Hermione but she deliberately looked away and kissed Draco.

"You are such a tease, you're breaking that guy's heart," said Draco, grinning as he fed Hermione a maraschino cherry. Hermione nibbled at the end of it. 

"Maybe," she said thoughtfully. "Does that bother you? Should I be clambering over the counter to get to him?" Draco laughed. He started to slap some money down onto the counter but the bartender stopped him.

"It es on zi house," he explained. "It es not often we get such beeyooteeful girls in the lovely Moulin Rouge." After a second of thought, he added, "And such handsome men." Draco grinned.

"I like him," he said. Hermione snorted, sipping her gin and tonic carefully, making sure not to overdo herself.

"You only like people who compliment you," she said. Draco only looked away with a "caught" look on his face. Hermione jiggled her feet to the beat of the music. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore.

"Let's dance," she said. 

"I thought you'd never ask," said Draco. He offered his arm and Hermione accepted it as they walked onto the dance floor.

~*~

Hermione couldn't quite put her finger on it but dancing in the Moulin Rouge was different from dancing in other muggle clubs. She couldn't understand it because the Moulin Rouge was also muggle but there was a little extra something that seemed to make it sparkle. 

Hermione felt the rhythm, the beat, deep inside herself, starting at her stomach and moving downwards to move her legs and upwards to explode little lights in her head. She created a spell, the kind that doesn't need incantations or wands. She made magic on that dance floor, her and Draco together. Draco was neither too shy or leering. He stared straight into her eyes the whole time they were dancing. Blue eyes met brown ones and they were both filled with a strange light as they danced together. 

The music seemed to be moving towards a climax and pulled Hermione and Draco along with it. Hermione stomped her feet, moved her hips, and raised her lithe arms over her head and twirled in a way that made her glitter and made other people stare. Draco was like a god turned loose onto a world full of pleasure as he danced with abandon. He was wild and feral and at the same time gentle with Hermione. 

As the music climaxed, they went wild and stars seemed to burst above their heads. There was a swirling in their minds, a roaring in their ears. It seemed to last forever, the relentless pounding on their bodies as they refused to yield. 

Finally, the music slowed and started to ebb away like waves on a quiet shore. The spell was broken and the music released its two biggest worshippers. 

"You never told me you could dance," said Draco, his hair sticking to his slightly damp face. The moisture on his face caught the light making him give off an ethereal glow. Hermione still marveled at his beauty, wondering how he had chosen _her_ over any other girl in the whole world. 

"I've danced before, at the winter balls at Hogwarts, remember?" Hermione was out of breath and the dance lights illuminated her hair creating a halo around her head. What a pair they made; they were god and goddess of beauty, love, and light, all sculpted marble with no coldness. They were better than marble. They were living, breathing flesh. People eyed them, enviously and wondrously. What made two angels from heaven land in their precious Moulin Rouge? Their need to party perhaps? 

Then Draco realized something that made him slightly uncomfortable. The on the dance floor, at the lounge, the bartender, were all staring at Hermione with a kind of hunger. Then, he realized something even more unnerving; some of the men were staring at him as well as all the women in the club. 

"Why don't we take a breather?" suggested Draco. He took Hermione's hand and led her out of the Moulin Rouge, leaving a breathless crowd behind them. They thought they had witnessed a miracle. And in a way, they did. 

~*~

"That was something wild," said Hermione, fanning herself. Summers in Paris were warm but the breeze was cool. But not nearly cool enough for Hermione. Her body felt like it was burning up once more but it wasn't like when she had woken from her nightmare. It was different; this heat was comforting and it drove her. 

"I love it, I love you," said Draco. He gathered her up in his arms and was about to lean down and kiss her when an owl swooped down. It wasn't a large barn owl from Hogwarts nor was it the tiny Pigwideon or the majestic snowy white Hedwig, the owls that Hermione was most familiar with.

This owl was as black as the night. It was the first black owl Hermione had ever seen. 

"Aren't you a beauty," she said, as she coaxed it onto her arm. It didn't bury its beak into her curls like Hedwig did; instead, it regarded her was serene, cool eyes. 

"It's got a letter," remarked Draco. Hermione stroked the bird's silky smooth feathers as Draco gently untied the letter from the owl's leg. He grinned upon reading it.

"I think we're going to have a visitor very soon," he said. Hermione looked at him curiously. 

"Very soon indeed," said a new voice. 

~*~

*I'm not sure if this is right, I'm using an online English-French dictionary (ducks in case tomatoes are being hurled her way) I am so sorry for any incorrect French terms or accents or ANYTHING. The only French names I know are the ones I've seen in the media (ducks once more) so they are cliched, I know. Forgive me, please, I'm just enchanted by the city that has the reputation of being the central for love.

For everyone out there who actually KNOWS French, feel free to correct me on anything. I'd be mortified to know that I have wrong terms on this story (which I probably do). 

Thanks for reading, please R&R on your way out! 


	2. Blood Sacrifice

Disclaimer:            All things Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling

Author's Notes: Thanks for all the offers about the French problem.  Unfortunately I hadn't taken French except for on month but it's a long story.  When I need more help on English to French translations, I'll be sure to ask one of you guys.  Thanks!  Oh and thanks for all the reviews, I'm so happy to see a lot of reviewers from the first story back for the sequel, makes me all warm and fuzzy inside ^^

_            "I think we're going to have a visitor very soon," he said.  Hermione looked at him curiously.  _

_            "Very soon indeed," said a new voice._

**_~*Writing on the Shower Wall*~_**

****

****

**_~*Chapter Two*~_**

****

****

****Hermione and Draco both looked around them to see who had spoken.  The owner of the voice stepped out of the shadows and into the halo of light that the Moulin Rouge set on the pavement.  Draco's eyes widened.  

            "Severus?  I'll be damned, it's good to see you!"  Draco strode up and readily embraced the other man.  Snape returned the embrace and Hermione stepped forward also.

            "It's good to see you," she echoed softly, smiling.  She hadn't realized how much she had wanted to see a familiar face, _any_ familiar face, until just now.  Snape was even taller than Draco's 6'2" and he was wearing a cream colored, ribbed sweater, black jacket, and black pants, even in this warm night.

            "Isn't it a little hot?" asked Hermione.  She felt her body heating up just at the sight of him.  But Snape looked relaxed and comfortable, more at ease with himself than he ever did at Hogwarts.  His raven black hair was pulled away from his thin, white face framed by silky dark strands.* 

            "You're looking well," said Draco, nodding. 

            "Likewise," said Snape, surveying the pair with a half smile playing on his face.  Hermione wondered by Snape as still single; he was actually quite good looking once he cleaned up and bit and got out of those dreadful Hogwarts faculty robes.  

            "How'd you find us?" asked Hermione.  "If you found us this easily then Lucius…"  

            "Hermione Granger," said Snape, turning his obsidian eyes at her, making her heart beat faster.  "Did you honestly think that Dumbledore was going to set you two lose in the world with no means for us to contact you by?"

            "Dumbledore was always smarter than what I gave him credit for," said Draco, sighing, smiling at the memory of those back at Hogwarts.  Snape scoffed and coaxed the silky black owl onto his arm. 

            "I'm happy to see that my dear Artemis did a fine job of finding you two."  He stroked the owl and the owl, clearly infatuated with her owner, nuzzled against him.  

            "What did we have that made you easier to contact us by?" pressed Hermione.  "It isn't anything that can be tapped into, like phone lines, right?  Lucius can't find us using the same source right?" 

            "Ms. Granger, always the worrywart," said Snape, grinning.  "And no, it is a strictly safe bond that only Dumbledore, Minerva, and I can use."  He extended his right hand and revealed a silver i.d. bracelet entwining his milky white wrist.  Inscribed upon the faceplate were the names _Draco Malfoy_ and _Hermione Granger_.  

            "Makes me look like a grandfather who had his grandchildren's names inscribed upon jewelry, or that I'm part of a lovers' pact doesn't it?" said Snape, lightheartedly.  "This has extremely powerful magic," he added, more seriously.  "No one will be able to tap into it."  Hermione finally relaxed, convinced. 

            "So, Severus," said Hermione.

            "It'll be back to Professor Snape the minute you're in Hogwarts," he warned, interrupting.  Hermione ignored him.

            "Do you dance?" she asked, eyes shining wickedly.  

~*~

            Hermione marveled at the ease and skill that Snape could move his body with.  His long, lanky form swayed to and fro with the music, almost hypnotically.  Draco kept his arm loosely draped around Hermione's waist as they let the beat move them deep in their stomach.  

            It wasn't the wild, raucous movements and the nearly orgasmic climax they had felt before, rather, with the presence of their new dance partner, everything seemed slower, more sensuous, like how one would move in bed.  It was like making your way through honey as the delicious golden substance kissed every part of your body.  It was almost equally climaxing.  

            Hermione raised her arms over her head and made her way to Snape and as their bodies touched, Hermione felt an electric bolt, a comforting warm fizz that traveled all throughout her body.  She retreated back to Draco, intrigued and afraid at the same time that anyone could do that to her.  This sort of dancing brought on a slow high, a buzzing in the heads, and the surreal feeling of everything being _unreal_.   

            Finally, with sweat glistening on all their brows, they made their way to the bar.  Hermione needed something cold and non-alcoholic.  She needed to be brought back to the real world instead of floating in a dream state. 

            _You make the world stop spinning_, thought Hermione, looking at Snape.  

            "I never knew you could dance," said Draco, grinning as he downed everything in his shot class.  "You always hover around the snack table at Hogwarts' balls."  

            "I don't believe the rest of the faculty would appreciate me mingling with the students," he said, mildly.  He got a gin and tonic and was obviously appreciating the drink.  

            "So what brings you to France, Severus?  Besides checking up on us?" asked Hermione.  Snape raised an eyebrow.

            "So a professor is not allowed to check on two of his students without another reason?  Truthfully, Dumbledore, Minerva, and I were all planning on checking up on you two and I volunteered."  

            They walked out of the Moulin Rouge and found the sky starting to lighten.  They settled up onto the roof of Hermione and Draco's apartment building with a bottle of sparkling water ("To help the hangover," Snape had explained) and watched the golden sun rise and lazily as they felt. 

            Hermione felt content and very drunk although she had not had much alcohol.  She was drunk off of life, love, and dance.  The sky started to brighten into a dusty pink, promising a day of sunshine ahead.  

            "Severus, are we your favorite students?" asked Hermione, playfully, rolling onto her stomach on the tiles.  Snape didn't meet her gaze, rather he stared up at the sky with a distant look in those deep pools of black eyes.  

            "I don't play favorites," he said.  Draco, pretending to be asleep, snorted.

            "You should treat me nicer in your class," said Hermione, frowning slightly at all the memories.  

            "I'm turning you from a show-off to a team player and a student, Ms. Granger," said Snape, all his professor like attitude back.

            "I wish you didn't have to."  Snape grinned.

            "All for your own good, Hermione."  _Hermione._  He had called her by her first name and only by her first name.  For some reason, this made her very happy.  She laid back and curled up against Draco and fell asleep as Snape watched over them both, what he had been doing for the past year.  He turned his pale face up towards the sky and breathed in the heavenly scent of the coming morning.

            "Thank god they're safe," he whispered.  He brushed a curl from Hermione forehead and smoothed Draco's flaxen hair back.  "Thank god." 

~*~

            Lucius was angry, extremely angry.  He held the throbbing stump of what once extended to his hand.  He had to make a sacrifice to kill that miserable house-elf as the form of himself but the gods of dark magic were not happy.  His hand was not sacrifice enough and they had demanded more.  On top of his hand, he had lost his left ear.  

            "All because of that filthy mudblood," he hissed venomously.  He covered the stump carefully within the folds of his silk, black robes, and stood.  He could find her and his miserable excuse for a son.  And he'll kill them both. 

            The gods are still demanding more sacrifices.  They want blood; they _crave_ blood.  And they will get blood.  Lucius will make sure of that.

~*~

*Find the anime manga series _Demon Diary_ (which is EXTREMELY good) you will see where I get my vision of Snape.  I always had the image of him as extremely good-looking and _Demon Diary_'s character Eclipse epitomizes Snape, in my eyes.  Look for a picture of him wearing the outfit I described in the second book of the series.  Please look for it, I highly recommend this series for all anime and non-anime fans alike! 

A/N: Please R&R on your way out!     


	3. You Don't Know How I Feel

Disclaimer: All things Harry Potter related belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
  
Author's Note: I lost all my formatting, unfortunately. I don't know about the rest of you but I need italics to emphasize words and it makes the title look pretty....well anyway, individual notes are at the bottom of the chapter  
  
  
  
~*Writing on the Shower Wall*~  
  
  
  
~*Chaper Three*~  
  
Severus stayed with Draco and Hermione for another week and although Draco seemed to be getting used to the company, something made Hermione feel on guard and worried. Of course she didn't quite know what that was yet but she was sure she'd figure it out soon.   
  
  
  
It was Thursday, which meant Hermione's day to cook. She carefully chopped up peppers and onions while Severus sat at the tile counter. Draco was out, sent on an errand by Hermione who had just found out they had run out of tomatoes. Hermione finished chopping up the vegetables and expertly scooped them all up on the side of the large cutting knife and put them in the soup simmering on the stove.   
  
  
  
"Any word about Lucius lately?" Hermione inquired. The steam was making the skin on her face feel leathery. She used the wooden ladle to stir the mixture.  
  
"Not particularly," he answered, a crease forming on his forehead. "You do realize, Hermione, he planned his own death and staged it. He won't be coming out with a letter of any sort. It's not like him to reveal himself so readily."  
  
"That's what I figured," she answered. "But it's also not like him to keep quiet."  
  
"Just watch out Hermione, you and Draco both. Suspicious people, suspicious objects being delivered...if you do notice these I hope you owl Dumbledore, Minerva (that's Professor McGonagall to you) or me." Hermione rolled her eyes.  
  
  
  
"I'll make sure to do that and pass along the message to Draco, Mr. Sunshine." That sparked a slight grin from Severus, the Snape equivalent of laughing out loud.   
  
"Need some help with the food?" he asked. Hermione gladly welcomed the help and Severus moved across the room to stand behind Hermione. He reached around her to grip the soup ladle and Hermione felt her heart quicken...or did it slow down? She couldn't tell. She closed her eyes and ordered herself to breathe.  
  
  
  
~*~  
  
Draco was haggling for a lower price at the bag of tomatoes when he noticed something strange. A dark hooded figure was standing a bit away from him and his (his? He couldn't tell the gender of the figure) face was covered but Draco could feel his eyes burning on him. He shifted his weight, uncomfortable, and ran a hand through his flaxen hair.  
  
"Who the hell is that," he muttered. The figure was most definately human, not a dementor but there was still something equally unsettling about him. Every part of his body was screaming at him, every nerve and cell was ordering him to leave immediately. Draco hurriedly shoved some money into the woman that was still arguing that these were the best tomatoes on this side of the world and derserved their price. He didn't even stop to get the change and grabbed the tomatoes and practically ran all the way back home.  
  
~*~  
  
"I think-I think that's enough help," Hermione said quietly, tripping over her words. Having Severus stand close was extremely unnerving and already Hermione and dropped half of her seasoning into another dish. She could feel him shrug and move back to the counter, a safe distance away.   
  
"Thanks for the help though," she added, voice still quiet. The air was still and yet it seemed to crackle as Hermione's eyes met Severus'. Suddenly, the door swung open and Draco walked in, looking a little unnerved himself.  
  
"Hey Draco," Hermione said, walking out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Draco hugged her with one arm, the other hand still holding the tomatoes, and kissed her cheek.   
  
"Are you alright?" she asked. She could feel her eyebrows twist in concern at the look on Draco's face. His eyes closed off as did the rest of his expression and suddenly he looked very guarded.  
  
  
  
"Yeah, sure, I'm fine," he said, distractedly. Hermione tugged at his hand and took the tomatoes.   
  
~*~  
  
It was night and Hermione couldn't sleep. She had never exactly been a morning person but she had never been able to not sleep like this before. She felt her mind and her thoughts roaming. The walls of the room weren't strong enough to contain them so Hermione slipped out of bed and out onto the balcony. There she settled into one of the chairs and breathed deeply. Here she could let her thoughts roll out of her head all the way up to meet the stars above her.  
  
  
  
"Sleep doesn't greet you with open arms?" asked a voice. Hermione didn't jump for she was in a languid, calm state of mind. And she knew who the voice belonged to.   
  
  
  
"Severus," she breathed and so he appeared from the shadows. He walked to the railing and leaned against it, looking at the large orb that hung perfectly in the sky above them.   
  
"Why are you still up?" Hermione asked, in that same slow voice. She could see Severus shake is shoulders in a shrug. She could feel how the silk of his robe had absorbed the heat of his body but she didn't know how she exactly knew this. He faced her leaning against the rail, robe slightly open revealing a bare chest bathed in silky, silver moonlight and cashmere pants.   
  
"Always been a bit of a night owl. At Hogwarts I have to stay up late each night, grading papers, you know how it is." Hermione stood up and stood next to him, elbows on the cold metal railing and looking out.  
  
  
  
"I have to ask you something," Hermione said. Her heart started to race. Damn her abnormal heart. Or maybe this WAS normal. He looked at her questioningly.   
  
  
  
"Why do you make me feel this way," she demanded. "Why is it that even though I'm with Draco I still want to be with you? Is there something wrong with me?" She took a shaky breath. Severus had a look on his face that she couldn't decode. Finally, he took her into his arms and Hermione rested her head against his chest, hearing the watery thud of his heartbeat.   
  
"Hermione, don't blow what you have with Draco on a silly schoolgirl's crush on me," he said. Hermione pulled away.  
  
  
  
"Is that what you think it is?" she asked, incredulously. He was silent for awhile then sighed.  
  
"No," he answered. "But you and Draco...you were meant to be Hermione. You can't throw that away for something else so easily."  
  
  
  
"Then why do you make me feel this way," she whispered. He looked almost equally pained.  
  
"Hermione, forget about us okay? Forget about me, whatever we had it doesn't exist as of now."   
  
"It exists inside of me," she said softly. Severus made a growling noise. He held her hand to his chest and she could feel his heartbeat.  
  
  
  
"It's inside of me too. But please Hermione, forget this, you have to."  
  
"Even when you feel the same way?" she demanded. He closed his eyes momentarily.  
  
  
  
"Hermione, you have no idea how this is making me feel." She shook her head.  
  
"I think I do." He caught her hands and kissed them softly. Hermione felt herself being carried back to the bed where she and Draco slept. She felt herself being tucked in and she flew towards sleep.  
  
The next morning, Severus was gone.   
  
~*~  
  
a/n: Sorry I know that was a crappy ending! I'll try and update sooner next time. 


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